Rock the Cradle

Rock the Cradle

It’s like Tai Chi
It’s like medicine
It’s like pay back
It’s like ‘what is to come’
It’s like a drop of the box
Of 50 I-Ching sticks
To be razor precise random still
Has side effects
Rippling through
Another vast primeval power trip
Lost in the song of songs
Dazed by a sip and a dip
Another universe freed across
An unthinkably vast
Imaginary banquet table
Where sit a deeply loyal inner circle
Bustling with the frenzy
Jealous for the darshan of supreme love
Without equal
With no label
Just a shout out
Like a gossamer thread
Walt Whitman
Spiderman like cable
If you’re able
Unwound sanskaric darshan binding
Light from every single molecule en masse
Like an ace of hearts laid smack against the table
Like leaves of grass
And all things must pass
A song of courage strewn beneath
The grander fable
Another “fill ‘er up with gas”
If anyone should ask
As if you were clark gable

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